


Laying Bare

by lamardeuse



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin's undressed Arthur hundreds of times, but this is new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laying Bare

**Author's Note:**

> Written for cherrybina's Necking Fest.

 

Merlin's undressed Arthur hundreds of times, to the point where there is no longer any erotic value in the act (well, alright, perhaps a little). Taking off Arthur's clothes is now familiar, almost rote, like the rhymes he learned as a child. However, when Arthur first slips his fingers under the soft, worn cloth of Merlin's neckerchief, Merlin has to shut his eyes and try to breathe around the sudden gut-punch of want.

Arthur's hands are sure and clever when handling a sword, a spear, the reins of an unruly warhorse, but here they're clumsy, fumbling at the knot at the back of Merlin's neck. Arthur's fingernails graze the sensitive skin of his nape, and Merlin hisses through his teeth. This earns him a confused look from Arthur.

“What –”

Merlin shakes his head, almost violently. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he rasps. His own hands are resting on Arthur's bare waist, and he feels more than a little foolish. He's done – well, he's not done a great deal, but he's not completely inexperienced. There's no reason this should be any different, he tells himself.

And then, with a muttered curse from Arthur, the knot finally slips free, and Merlin looks into Arthur's face as the neckerchief falls away. Arthur's head is bent slightly, his brows slightly furrowed and his gaze intent on what seems to be Merlin's Adam's apple. Merlin swallows instinctively in response, and Arthur's hands come forward, thumbs sweeping down the line of his neck on either side of his windpipe.

Merlin shivers as he remembers the last time Arthur's hand was on his throat: _Go ahead_ , Arthur had said, _use magic on me to stop me from snapping your treacherous neck_.

Merlin had only shook his head, and Arthur had stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. When he'd finally dropped his hand, Merlin had told himself he'd known all along that Arthur wouldn't hurt him, and a little over a month later he can truly say he believes it. Despite how far they’ve come since then, though, the memory is not easily dispelled.

He's returned to the present when Arthur's thumbs press just a little bit harder. Merlin gasps, and Arthur's head jerks up, his gaze searching. Meeting it, Merlin tries to hide the thought in his head, but it's as though Arthur can see clear through to the back of his skull, because his eyes widen and his hands abruptly move from Merlin's neck to his shoulders.

“No, it's –”

“I'm sorry, I didn't think –”

“– fine, just –”

“– but surely you can't believe I would –”

“– don't stop, I'm being –”

“– seduce you only to harm you.”

“– foolish,” Merlin finishes just behind Arthur, then frowns. “Wait, did you say you're seducing me?”

Arthur scowls at him. “What's wrong with that?” he snaps.

“Oh, nothing,” Merlin says, hands skimming up Arthur's ribs to his chest, “only it's rather – lord of the manor and the scullery maid, isn't it?”

Arthur snorts. “In case you haven't noticed, you _are_ a scullery maid.”

“Oi,” Merlin says, flicking his thumbnail against Arthur's nipple, making him flinch. Arthur's hands catch Merlin's and press them flat against his chest.

“You missed the point of that sentence, as usual,” he murmurs.

“Which was?”

“I will not harm you. I could never –” Arthur cuts himself off. “You must believe that.”

“I do, Arthur, of course I do,” Merlin whispers. “And I could never harm you.”

Arthur continues to gaze into his eyes, and it occurs to Merlin that they're saying something else entirely. After a long moment, Arthur's hands release Merlin's, gliding down to rest lightly on his hips.

Merlin takes a deep breath, then reaches for Arthur's hands and drags them back up to his neck.

Arthur's eyes widen again, and then go dark. Before Merlin has a chance to think of what this might mean, Arthur leans in and presses his mouth to the v of Merlin’s collarbone. Merlin gasps, throwing his head back, and Arthur glides his tongue up the line of Merlin’s neck as though rewarding him. After that it’s a furious race to rid Merlin of the rest of his clothing, with some inconvenient elbows and knees getting in the way as Arthur does his best to help.

“You are right, though,” Arthur drawls, the gleam in his eye predatory as he walks Merlin back toward the bed, “about one thing.”

“What’s that?” Merlin murmurs. Made daring by lust, he leans forward to suck greedily at Arthur’s Adam’s apple before Arthur groans and shoves him back. He tumbles onto the mattress – Christ, it _is_ as soft as he’s imagined – and then Arthur’s on top of him, skin to skin pressed from thighs to chests, and it’s _wonderful_.

Arthur reaches down between them, lips curled in a smug smile, and Merlin makes a completely undignified noise when his hand finds its target.

“You’re no scullery maid.”

“Shut up, my lord,” Merlin grins, lifting his head to get a taste of Arthur’s outrage.

**Author's Note:**

> First published August 2010.


End file.
